


got overdrive (with a whole lot of boom in the back)

by sedfierisentio



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sedfierisentio/pseuds/sedfierisentio
Summary: Lucifer kind of wants Chloe to peg him, but doesn't know how to ask for it: he asks Dr Linda Martin for advice, and misadventures ensue.Short episodes to be posted regularly - also posting on Tumblr at the same time. Yes, it is as dumb as it sounds.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, i don't know what to say. One evening, I thought: Jeez, I bet Lucifer would love some good ol' pegging, and here we are today. Find me on tumblr, where I originally posted it, @ sedfierisentio.tumblr.com.

Sex with the Detective is great. It’s even better than he’d thought it would be, and he’d thought about it rather extensively: in bed, obviously, but also at the precinct, or when she was particularly bossy as she handcuffed the villain _du jour _and he’d feel a stir in his guts that had nothing to do with bringing the world justice, so that’s saying something. Turns out, the Detective is rather feisty in bed, and the numerous times they have had sex, they have explored quite a bit, involving various things, including: his piano, $1000 sushi, and, one spectacular night, a riding crop.

(The following day, coincidentally, Ella had cooed: “Aww, you like Chloe so much, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes,” Lucifer had grinned. “You could say, in fact, that I am _whipped_.”)

So, in general, Lucifer can’t complain. There, is, though, something he would love to try. He just doesn’t know how to broach the subject, per se: not because he’s shy, of course - he doesn’t _do_ shy, he’s the _Devil_ \- but because he doesn’t want to scare the Detective away. Since the dawn of time, he’s tried everything — well, he _had_ tried almost everything, except for scat and sex with feelings, one of which he’s experiencing now and actually feels much better than he’d expected it to. One morning, as the light hit Chloe’s sleepy, smiling face, he was so close to saying the l-word that he panicked and blurted out _Sit on my face _just so that the universe could restore its balance.

When he finally _does_ bring it up with Dr. Martin, she turns a sickly shade of yellow and clears her voice, a bit uncomfortable . “Well, Lucifer, communication is key in lo—…”

“Enthusiastic, emotionally charged oral,” Lucifer says.

“Whatever you say,” she sighs. “If that is something you want, you need to _ask_ Chloe. She can’t read your mind, after all, and I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a mature adult with perfectly common kinks.”

“But I don’t want her to feel like she’s _lacking_, Doctor, if she doesn’t want to do it. It’s not a deal breaker. Not like scat. Let me tell you, if I hadn’t abhorred Catherine de Medici already, that alone would have done it.”

Doctor Martin blinks. “Catherine de Medici was into—you know what, I don’t want to know,” she says. “Worst case scenario, Chloe’ll say no, no harm done. Perhaps _don’t_ mention the scat, though. You could also be subtle about it.”

“What’s a subtle way of saying, _Detective_, _I’d love for you to fuck me with a strap-on?”_

“You’ll figure it out,” Doctor Martin says. “I will say, though, I wouldn’t have expected you to be interested in _that_. I would have thought you’d be interested in a more… _active_ role.”

Lucifer scoffs. As if he’d let toxic masculinity get in the way of some good prostate fun. What does she think he is, a Christian? “I’ll have you know, Doctor, that I am quite _versatile_. Ask Julius Caesar. Well, so to speak. He is dead after all.”

“You had sex with Julius Caesar?” Dr Linda asks. “I don’t even know why I am shocked. Of course you had sex with Julius Caesar.”

“He actually said _Veni__, __vidi__, __vici_about me,but that’s a story for another day.” Lucifer gets up, smoothing out any wrinkles in his Versace suit. “Anyway, Doctor, thank you for your insight, I’ll follow your advice.”

_Will you though?_, she thinks, but he can’t know that.

Two days later, he’s having dinner with the Detective at her flat. The little urchin is with her dad, which which means, one: they’ll have sex later, feelings and everything, _hooray_; two, he can bring up the whole pegging thing now. Earlier today, at the park, he suggested they got popsicles and ice cream, and he made sure to treat both like he’d treat the finest of man or the finest of strap-ons. While a few onlookers seemed quite taken aback or, well, _impressed_ with the technique (but so was Julius), she didn’t seem to catch on. So, plan B. He’s cooked courgettes and aubergines into a savoury cake and he’s also cooked a Sicilian dessert called Turkish salame (a phallic shaped dessert made with chocolate biscuits), but she hasn’t caught on with this, either.

“I will say,” the Detective says, with a mouthful of Turkish salame in her mouth, “Domestic Lucifer is still quite unsettling, in a good way.”

“I would say,” Lucifer tries, “You wouldn’t have _pegged_ me for the domestic type?”

“Exactly.”

“But I _am,_” he stresses. “I _want_ to be. _Pegged_. For it.”

“That’s great, Lucifer,” she says. “People’s perception will change, I am sure. By the way, this dessert is absolutely delicious, where did you even _get_ the recipe? Was it hard?”

He groans internally. So, this hasn’t worked, either. Great. “It always is,” he mutters, disgruntled, and slams his fork into three pieces at once.

“Hey,” she says, softly. “All of us can shock people sometimes, you know. Say or like things they wouldn’t expect.”

After a moment, Lucifer frowns. “Detective,” he says, cautiously. “You’re not into scat, are you?”

She chokes on the salame.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a few days later and Lucifer is, yet again, at his weekly appointment with Dr Martin. This time around, despite the slightly uncomfortable look, _she_ is the one to bring it up. “So, Lucifer,” she goes, “how’d it go?”

“Not _in_, Doctor,” he says. He sits up straighter, crossing his legs in what, he is sure, is his best reenactment of Sharon Stone in _Basic Instinct_. “Well, it _did_ go in, but not the way we discussed it. See, here’s the issue: I was so subtle she didn’t pick it up the signs.”

He tells her, at length, of his attempts, phallic dessert and everything. He doesn’t delve into too many details about the actual, mind-blowing sex he and the Detective did eventually have, despite the short, awkward parenthesis in which he said the word _scat_ and the Detective had a near-death experience. “Then we did have sex, of course,” he says though. “And reminiscing about Caesar inspired me to incorporate olive oil, so thank you for that, Doctor. That was the only…”

Dr Martin sighs. “Please don’t say it.”

“… extra-virgin part of the night.” He’s very pleased at his humour. “No pegging, however. Only me, going in her. Which is great, don’t get me wrong, but wasn’t the point of the evening.”

“Well, Lucifer,” she says, “you could always straight up _ask her._”

Lucifer scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Doctor. I don’t want to scare her. Or scar her. Perhaps, though, I could ease the idea in.” He grins, winking. “Do you get it, _ease it in_?”

After a second, Dr Martin blurts out, “What kind of lover was Julius Caesar?”

Lucifer sighs. His humour is wasted with humanity. “I knew you would bring it up again.” He clear his voice: after all, Mission Ease It In can wait a few more minutes. “Well, he _loved_ roleplay. I should tell you about him, Cleopatra, and the snake. I was the snake.”

That weekend, he and Chloe are having drinks at Lux, just by the counter, Amenadiel, Dr Martin, Maze and Ella also here. _Mission Ease It_ _In_ started early this afternoon, when, as he and the Detective were having coffee and brownies (_sans_ pot, unfortunately) that he’d baked himself, he (casually) brought up Julius Caesar as the inspiration for the olive oil adventure, in an attempt to reiterate that his body might be a temple, but one where you can enter from the back door.

“Holy shit, Lucifer,” the Detective said, biting into a brownie. “What was he like in bed? And what about Brutus?” 

That was _not_ the point. 

Now, all humans pleasantly tipsy, of course. This is one of the rare times the Detective has let her guard down: she’s currently moving along to the music, glass of wine in her right hand, eyes glassy, lips shiny red. He kind of can’t look away. 

“Lucifer, please blink,” Dr Martin says eventually. “This is getting creepy.”

“So _cute_,” Ella coos. And hugs him, obviously. “I love love. Don’t you all love love?”

Stubbornly, Lucifer thinks, _Enthusiastic, emotionally charged oral._ At the same time, Maze gags and the bartender, a good-looking chap in his late twenties, appears seemingly out of nowhere, _Whisky_ bottle in his hand. “A refill, anyone?”

“Please,” Lucifer says, extending his glass.

“How many fingers?” 

This couldn’t have gone better. “Three, please,” he chirps. “Sometimes four, if I’m feeling daring.”

Maze snorts. Chloe cackles, head thrown back, swaying a little. “Lucifer, I don’t know if I tell you enough, but you’re _so_ funny sometimes.” She leans forward, head resting against his chest. “I am so happy.”

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

There is no way she can sit on his face here.

Luckily, Ella distracts them all. “You know, you guys,” she screams, hands on her chest, “I am so glad I met you all. I think I had a frinds-shaped hole in my chest that you have filled.”

“Don’t we all,” Lucifer says, “feel like we have empty holes to be filled? _Right_, Detective?”

“_Mmm_,” she hums, still against his chest.

“Yes,” Ella keeps going. “I don’t feel empty anymore, ever. I am so glad I met you all. Best friends ever.”

“Ah, we all feel empty sometimes,” Lucifer says. “I know I do. Feel empty. Sometimes. Like I have a Detective-shaped hole inside my body. _Detective_?”

For some reason, the Detective takes it as a cue to gently move his head down to kiss her, eyes shiny, happy. 

She must be thinking of the enthusiastic oral, he’s sure.

“I love love. You’re so deep, Lucifer,” Ella says, downing another shot of tequila.

“Oh, I definitely am,” he mutters against Chloe’s lips. “Detective? Are you listening?” 

“Mmm,” she hums, stepping back and taking another sip of wine.

Defeated, he also goes back to sipping his liquor. Except, just as he does that: “Oh, Lucifer,” Amenadiel says softly. And completely fucking cluelessly. “Why did you never say about feeling empty? I could help you out with that.”

He chokes on the Whisky.


End file.
